


Oui, Oui, Merci, Grand Cheval

by The_girlwholived



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: Cute, F/M, Fluff, Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-09
Updated: 2018-07-09
Packaged: 2019-06-07 23:28:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15230367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_girlwholived/pseuds/The_girlwholived
Summary: The story of how Fleur slowly falls in love with Bill over English lessons, questionable accents and a trip to the beach.





	Oui, Oui, Merci, Grand Cheval

English people, Fleur Delacour had decided, were a strange breed. They spoke their language so quickly, with complicated slang and accents that irritated her. They had weird food that seemed to consist of mostly gravy or custard, named after counties and animals. And now one of them, a young man named Bill Weasley, had just met her for the first time and had not stared, proposed marriage, or asked weird questions. She was intrigued. She found out more about him, talking to him in the corridor, at tea break. She found out he was just on temporary leave from his job as a curse breaker in Egypt, and would be going back soon. The thought of him working in anything so boring as a bank was almost funny. With his ponytail, his earring, and the tattoo he said he would never tell his mother about, he looked like he would go in for something far more exciting. But when Fleur told him this, he laughed.

"My job _is_ exciting. I get to travel all over the world. It's what I love. Don't you like your job?"

"No," she confessed. "I 'ate it 'ere. I only came to improve Eenglish."

"Well," he said, a touch awkwardly. "I could help with your English if you like. Just until I go back."

"I would love zat." Fleur smiled at him, but it didn't make him dazzled. He smiled right back.

  
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Their first English lesson was on her lunchbreak, in the cafe around the corner. After a few minutes of practising some common phrases, Bill paused to ask a question.

"Why did you stay here? If you hate it so much, why not go home?"

"Because zat would be losing," she told him. "Zat would be telling everyone I am airhead like zey thenk. Besides, I will not waste my parent's gift. Zey paid for me to come 'ere."

Bill looked thoughtful. "You know," he said. "You're not what I expected a French person to be like at all."

"I forgot my baguette," she said sarcastically. "Also, I thenk I am supposed to say things like, "Oui oui, merci, grand cheval" every sentence."

A smile tugged at his mouth. "Yes yes, thank you, big horse?"

"You speak French?"

He shrugged modestly. "A little. I spent some time there about a year ago."

She folded her arms in front of her on the table. "You are not what I expected Eenglish person to be like either. I thought you drank tea a lot. I'm disappointed."

He held his hands up, smiling. "I'll have to confess, then. I don't even like tea or Yorkshire pud, I've never met anyone from the Royal Family, and my own family isn't at all posh. I'm a fake Brit."

After the English lesson, back in her little shared flat, Fleur didn't think she had ever had so much fun with anyone else.

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Through the next English lessons, Fleur grew to like Bill more and more. He was funny, putting on terrible fake accents and composing poems and songs about Britain. He was kind too, remembering all of her family's names and even enquiring after Gabrielle one week after Fleur had mentioned in the last lesson that she'd had a bad flu. He told her all about the places he had been, she told him all about her hometown in France, how much she missed the quiet, the sea and the beach.

He told her how sometimes he had been lonely, as the eldest child of seven, she told him about how she had had no proper friends until she went to Beauxbatons. She didn't even realise she was falling in love with him until one day, instead of going to the cafe for their English lesson, he said he wanted to take her somewhere.

"I've only got an 'our," she said doubtfully.

"I know. It's a surprise, so close your eyes."

She closed her eyes, and then he took her hand. His was warm and rough in hers, and it made her stomach fizz.

"I'm going to apparate now, okay?"

"Okay," she said, and when the squeezing sensation faded, she heard the caw of seagulls and the suck of the sea. She opened her eyes to see endless sand, the bright sunlight glinting off the tips of the waves as they rolled onto shore.

"Bill, you 'ave taken me to the seaside!"

He laughed, and, unfortunately, let go of her hand. "I know. You told me you miss the sea, so here it is. I couldn't bring you to France, but hopefully Brighton will do."

He bought her an icecream, and they sat on the beach. When it was finished, Fleur looked at him, and said,  "Thank you, Bill. Zis....eet is so kind."

Bill bent his head and kissed her gently, only the slightest pressure on her lips. He pulled away, and it was all she could do not to drag him back. She blinked, and he said, "Was that....okay?"

"Oh yes," Fleur said breathlessly, and she laughed. "Oui, oui, merci, grand cheval!"

She stood up and brushed off her dress, and he followed.

"Race you to the sea," he said, and they ran like children, laughing as Bill beat her.

The waves swirled around them, Fleur holding the hem of her dress above her knees as they waded deeper, and then as Bill bent to roll up the legs of his ripped jeans, she saw the wave coming, but it was too late to warn him.

It engulfed him, making him splutter and rise, shaking water out of his long hair.

"You are all right?" Fleur asked, giggling desperately.

"Oh oui," he said, and they both shouted the last part together, "OUI, MERCI, GRAND CHEVAL!"


End file.
